An Aversion to Potatoes
by Nissa
Summary: *Completed* Pippin is tired of Sam cooking potatoes for their meals and his desperate pleading for something new to eat leads to the fellowship having a new cook for the evening.


Title: An Aversion to Potatoes   
Author: Nissa   
Warnings: G   
Summary: Pippin is tired of Sam cooking potatoes for their meals and his desperate pleading for something new to eat leads to the fellowship having a new cook for the evening.   
Feedback: Yes please! Either e-mail me at secondstar1@hotmail.com or post your reviews right here on ff.net.   
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any of these wonderful characters. The brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien created them and the world they live in. I'm only playing in it for a while. Oh yes, please do not repost this anywhere without my permission. Thanks.   
Time: During Fellowship of the Ring, approaching Caradhas   
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**An Aversion to Potatoes**

"Why does Sam always get to cook dinner?" Pippin demanded to know. 

"It's my reward for carrying these pots all over Middle Earth. If you'd like to cook dinner tonight then maybe you should try carrying them Pippin." 

"My pack is quite heavy enough, thank you, Sam." 

Frodo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was no secret that the fellowship was growing tired of Sam's cooking. Sam wasn't a magnificent cook, but he wasn't a bad one either. His choices and meal types were severely limited though by the dwindling supplies and the few kinds of food they could pick up along the trails they followed. 

"I swear, if I have to eat one more potato-" 

"And what's wrong with my potatoes?" a red faced Sam interrupted. "I'll have you know that I make potatoes better than my gaffer. And Mr. Frodo likes my potatoes. Isn't that right, Mr. Frodo?" 

"Your potatoes are fine, Sam," the ring bearer said with a heavy sigh. _Poor Sam. He always takes criticism so personally. _

"Well, I wouldn't mind having something besides potatoes tonight," Merry joined in. "Maybe if we pass a farm Pippin and I could pilfer some carrots. Or mushrooms. . .mm-mmm, mushrooms. . ." 

"No one will be pilfering any farms or gardens, Meriadoc," Gandalf said, turning around to face all the hobbits. "We will be at the base of Caradhas soon enough and once we pass over the mountains we will be at Lothlorien and you can eat all the food you want. But until then we will make do with Sam's cooking." 

"Told you I was a good cook," Sam said, sticking his tongue out at Pippin. 

Frodo groaned and put his head in his hands. "Please, just stop talking about food! I'm hungry as it is with all this walking." 

Aragorn paused at the front of the line and looked back at the hobbits. They had been pushing hard all day and had covered a good deal of terrain, but the halflings were starting to show signs of weariness. Merry and Pippin were dragging their heels, kicking at little pebbles that crossed their path. Frodo was looking a little more tired every day as it was. The Ranger could see that Sam was trying to keep up Frodo's spirits and even kept offering to help carry some of Frodo's baggage, but eventually even the stout little gardener was beginning to show signs of fatigue. 

"I think we'll stop and rest for the night once we find some shelter," he informed the rest of the fellowship. 

Boromir stopped and looked at the sun over the horizon. "I'd say that we still have at least another hour worth of decent daylight. Are you sure that we shouldn't press on further?" 

Aragorn shook his head at the other man and gestured towards the hobbits. "The little ones need to rest. It won't hurt to stop a little early on this one day. We'll reach the mountains soon enough." 

"I still say that we try for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir said as he came up to walk next to Aragorn. 

"Believe me," the Ranger said, placing a hand on Boromir's shoulder. "I am not eager to attempt Caradhas either. But Gandalf is right in saying that taking the Gap of Rohan may take us too close to Isengard." 

Boromir said nothing, but Aragorn could tell that it would not be easy to dissuade the son of Gondor that the Ring would not be safe in the hands of humans, even if the intent was originally a good one. 

With the promise of rest soon, it was not difficult for the nine walkers to continue on. After a quarter of an hour, the group came upon a cave in the side of a hill. It was fortunately large enough for them all to fit in. There was even some room for Bill if they found the need to bring the pony inside for the night. 

"A cave!" Gimli said with satisfaction. "It is about time that we found some suitable shelter. None of this sleeping among the trees business tonight." 

"I'll take the trees over this dank hole any day," Legolas said curtly. He truly could not see why the dwarf took such comfort in dark holes. _But I suppose that it is only appropriate that a strange race likes strange places,_ he thought. 

The prospect of being able to sleep in a cave for the night was uplifting enough for the dwarf that the elf's comments failed to darken his mood. He happily walked into the mouth of the cave and surveyed the small enclosure as if he were the lord of the land. 

"Well, it is nothing compared to the mines of Moria, but I suppose it will have to do for tonight." 

Legolas shook his head and chose to sit outside while there was still some daylight. 

Aragorn stopped outside the cave to talk with Gandalf for a moment, while Boromir went on in to sit down. He had taken off one of his boots and was shaking out a few pebbles that had found their way inside when all four of the hobbits crowded through the cave's opening. 

They all set their bags down. Merry was soon collapsed on the ground on his stomach, his head resting on his arms. Pippin wandered over by him and immediately plopped onto his back, staring at the few small stalactites that were hanging from the cave's ceiling. "It's a good thing us hobbits have tough feet or else I would have been finished long ago," he tiredly muttered to the rocks above him. 

"What you need is a good meal to wake you up, Pippin," Sam said as he began untying various pots and supplies from his pack. "Now I think I have a few potatoes right here in my bag-" 

"No!" Pippin said with a shout, leaping to his feet. "No more potatoes!" 

"I second that motion!" Merry half-heartedly cheered from his place on the ground, waving one arm around in the air. 

Frodo merely shook his head and sat down on an old log that was in the cave. _I will not get involved in this debate again_, he thought to himself, setting his head back against the cold wall. 

Boromir watched as Pippin and Sam began their debate about dinner again. He looked at the supplies that Sam had set on the ground and then at the sun outside the cave. It was beginning to set faster, but there were still at least a good twenty minutes of daylight. 

"I will not eat another potato! They'll be coming out of my ears if I have to put another one in my mouth tonight!" Pippin exclaimed. 

"Oh come now, everyone knows that you can't grow potatoes in your ears," Sam said, refusing to be discouraged from making dinner. 

"Please, Sam, I'm begging you!" Pippin pleaded, getting down on his knees and shaking clasped hands at the other hobbit. "No potatoes!" 

"Mr. Frodo, please tell Pippin that eating potatoes tonight won't hurt him." 

"Sam, I'd rather not have to take sides in this argument," Frodo said, absent-mindedly fingering the chain around his neck. 

"See! See!" Pippin said triumphantly, jumping up from the ground and pointing a finger at Frodo. "He doesn't want to eat potatoes tonight either!" 

Frodo's eyebrows creased together. "Now just a minute, I never said-" 

"I'll make dinner." 

"What?" Pippin said, looking towards the voice that had interrupted them. 

"I said that I'll make dinner," Boromir repeated as four sets of hobbit eyes turned to look at him with surprise. 

"I didn't know that you can cook, sir," Sam said in amazement. 

"Neither did I," Aragorn added stepping into the cave. Legolas and Gandalf soon followed him. 

"Don't be so surprised," Boromir said, somewhat annoyed. "I used to take turns cooking with my men on some of the missions that I've gone on." 

"What do you eat in Gondor?" Merry asked, rolling over to face him. 

"Good food," the man simply replied. He gave another look towards the mouth of the cave. "There is still some daylight left so I'll go see what I can find." 

"You really want to cook tonight?" Sam asked again, protectively holding on to the nice pot he had brought from the Shire. 

"I don't mind at all," Boromir said, standing up. "Why don't you start the fire while I go look around outside." 

The hobbits nodded as Boromir buckled his sword belt and went outside. 

"This should be interesting," Aragorn murmured to Legolas once the newly appointed chef was out of hearing range. 

* * * * *

By the time Boromir returned it was getting dark outside and the hobbits had a grand fire going at the mouth of the cave. Not only would that help ward off any animals that tried to enter, but it would also keep the smoke from billowing up inside the cave. 

Merry, Pippin, and Sam watched with great curiosity as Boromir placed various types of plants down in front of the fire. He had even managed to catch a small rabbit. 

"Now, let's see," Boromir muttered to himself as he surveyed the objects that he'd gathered. "Pippin, there's a small stream outside. Could you please fill up Sam's pot about two thirds of the way with water?" 

"Sure," Pippin said, grabbing the pot from Sam and dashing outside. 

"Don't dent it!" Sam worriedly called after him. 

"Sam, can you and Merry skin the rabbit while I get everything else ready to go? You can use my knife." 

The two hobbits nodded. Merry took the knife and Sam grabbed the dead rabbit by the ears as they went outside. Pippin soon came back in with the pot of water. 

Boromir set it over the fire and then began cutting up the various plants and roots he'd gathered as he waited for the water to boil. After a few minutes, Sam and Merry came back in with the skinned rabbit. Boromir deftly cut the meat off the rabbit. The water was ready by now, so he started putting the plants and the rabbit meat into the pot. Sam watched with great interest, and Pippin's mouth started watering as the soup began to cook. 

Boromir stirred the ingredients in the pot and reached for a few of Sam's potatoes to add to the soup when a small hand grabbed at his wrist. 

"Please," Pippin pleaded with wide eyes. "No potatoes. No more potatoes!" 

Boromir chuckled. "Fair enough, Pippin. The potatoes will remain in Sam's bag tonight." 

Pippin let out an immense sigh of relief, oblivious to Sam's slightly hurt look. Pippin and Merry then continued to stare at the pot intently as Boromir sat back to relax for a bit. Sam, who refused to completely relinquish his cooking duties, would occasionally give the pot an appraising look and stir the contents with a spoon. Aragorn went and sat down next to Boromir and gave a slight laugh. 

"Now all that we need is for Gimli and Legolas to start being friendly towards each other and then I'll have seen everything on this journey," he teased Boromir. 

"Don't hold your breath over me becoming friends with that elf!" Gimli gruffly reminded the two humans from his side of the cave. Legolas shot a dark glare at the dwarf but refrained from entering into another verbal sparring match at this time. The match would not have lasted long, for the fire that the hobbits had built was a hot one and the soup was ready quickly. 

"I think the soup is done," Sam announced. 

Boromir took the spoon from Sam's hand and tasted the soup. "Yes, it's ready to eat now." He took a bowl and filled it from the pot. 

"Help yourselves while it's still hot," he told the fellowship. He needn't have bothered, for the soup smelled wonderful and the hungry travelers were already scrambling for their bowls. 

Soon the only sound that remained in the cave was the slurping of soup and some very content sighs from the hobbit contingent. Pippin especially was enjoying himself. The pot of soup was empty in no time at all, and the fellowship sat back to relax with full stomachs. 

"I must say, that was a pleasant surprise Boromir," Gandalf complimented the son of Gondor in between puffs on his pipe. 

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and added their thanks to Gandalf's sentiments. Boromir smiled wide, extremely pleased with himself. The fellowship then began to busy themselves for the night. The four hobbits went to prepare their bedrolls for the evening. Legolas sat fletching some arrows while Gimli moved to the opposite end of the cave to inspect his axe and sharpen the blades where needed. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir gathered to discuss the travel plans for tomorrow. 

Everyone was at least a half hour into their tasks for the night when Pippin abruptly cut off his conversation with Merry. 

"Pip? What's wrong?" Merry questioned his cousin. "You don't look well." 

Pippin wrinkled his forehead and wriggled uncomfortable in his seat on the cave floor. "I'm not sure. My stomach feels a bit uneasy. It's probably from walking so much the past couple of days." 

Merry looked at him carefully. "Are you sure? Your face looks a little pale." 

Pippin shook his head and put his hand over his stomach. "No, I'll be fine. I thin-" 

Merry's eyes widened as Pippin suddenly stopped talking again. A gurgling sound came from Pippin's stomach and faster than a hobbit running to mushrooms the poor Took was dashing for the opening of the cave. 

"Pippin!" Merry called after him. 

Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf stopped talking as the hobbit blurred past them. 

"Now where is he off to so quickly?" Boromir asked the other two. 

Aragorn shook his head in confusion, but stopped and held a hand to his mouth in surprise as he heard the unfortunate hobbit retching up his dinner outside the cave. 

"Pippin, are you alright?" Merry called out to his cousin, peeking around the outside of the cave. 

Poor Pippin came wandering back inside, looking slightly green and none too happy. "I think I better go lie down for a while," he muttered, dragging himself back over to his bedroll and collapsing down on the blanket. 

"Perhaps he just ate his soup too quickly?" Frodo offered as a suggestion to all who were watching the sick hobbit. 

"He did eat an awful lot of it," Legolas added, seeming to agree with Frodo. 

The explanation seemed plausible enough to them. Plausible that is, until Gimli spoke up. 

"Er, if you would all excuse me, I think I had better go outside for a bit." 

The dwarf dashed outside and could soon be heard following Pippin's example. 

Poor Pippin feeling sick was one thing, but a dwarf loosing his dinner was just too much for Legolas. He started laughing so hard that tears sprung from his eyes. 

"Legolas, please stop that," Aragorn reprimanded the prince. "Gimli can't help it if he's sick." 

"I'm sorry," the elf said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "It's just that - ha ha! It's just, just," and he broke off in another peal of laughter. 

"Really now, Legolas," Aragorn started again. 

The elf clutched his stomach with laughter, red faced and shaking with mirth. A funny look crossed the prince's face, though, and the color quickly began to drain from his face. Within moments the elf was outside and most ungracefully loosing his dinner right along side with Gimli. 

Gandalf shook his head and looked with disbelief at Aragorn. "This is most unusual." 

Aragorn nodded in agreement and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he heard another voice speak up. 

"Mr. Frodo, I don't feel so well, sir," Sam feebly said. 

No one was surprised as the hobbit quickly made his way outside, and Aragorn did not like the churning he was suddenly feeling in his stomach as Sam hurried past. 

* * * * *

It was a long night for the fellowship as eight of the nine walkers proceeded to get sick. Gandalf was the only one who didn't loose his supper, although he did look a bit green for a few hours. 

"Boromir, what did you put in that soup?" Legolas groaned as he lay on his back. 

"You all saw me make it!" the warrior said defensively. "It was only rabbit meat, some roots, and some herbs. There wasn't a harmful thing in there." 

Aragorn slowly sat up and walked over to the dying campfire. He pawed around at the scraps of what Boromir had gathered that had not been used in the soup. His hand finally came to rest over one leaf, and he plucked it off the ground. 

"Boromir?" 

"What is it?" Boromir asked, not wanting to move from his spot on the ground. 

"How many of these leaves did you put in the soup?" 

This question caught Boromir's attention enough to cause him to sit up and look at the ranger. 

"I must have cut up at least a handful to add to the soup." His brow furrowed as he saw Aragorn cover his eyes with his hand. "Why do you ask?" 

"It is no wonder that we all were sick after eating your soup. This is what is commonly called the 'wretched leaf' by most people, and for obvious reasons." 

"Wretched leaf? What are you talking about? That is nothing but sage." 

Aragorn gave an exasperated sigh. "This leaf has many more teeth along it's edges than sage does, Boromir." 

The captain of Gondor opened his mouth to further protest his case when he suddenly became very conscious of seven other pairs of eyes staring at him. Rather embarrassed, he mumbled an apology to them and then rolled over, pulling his blanket up over his head. 

Aragorn gave the leaf in his hand a woeful look before dropping it back to the ground and heading for his own bedding. 

"I suggest you all try to get some sleep. The effects of that leaf are not long lasting and we should all feel better in the morning." 

There was no argument from anyone in the cave. They all turned over to sleep as Gandalf went to take the first watch, being the one who seemed to be fairing best out of the fellowship. 

Quiet settled over the cave as they all began to fall asleep and soon only the sound of the occasional cricket could be heard outside. Gandalf set his staff against the wall and was making himself as comfortable as possible for his watch when he heard a loud whisper cut through the darkness. 

"Sam?" 

There was a rustling of blankets and some mumbling before a voice whispered back. "What is it Pippin?" 

"Can you please make your potatoes for supper tomorrow night?" 

**Fin.**


End file.
